Because they are good conductors
He told me it was the only job he could see himself doing
I can see myself doing.
Apparently it's a very stable career choice.
I hear they make a killing
So they're pretty much all one-liners.
He is now the taxidriver known as Carpool.
..He could never pin down a steady job.
He's a wokstar
Just from the first sentence, I knew he meant business.
There was this guy, mid to late twenties, black hair, just average next door type of guy. Mind you, he's not a dad yet. He's a honest worker who worked his way up in his job and makes a decent living for a man of his age. When he was a kid he was not extremely sharp and people would make fun of his stupidity. But he didn't care about that. He gave all he could and went abroad to get the best education from the best university of his time. He graduated top of the class. The he came back to his home town, got a job and fell in love with a beautiful young girl. They were about to get married but unfortunately for some reason god went "hmmm he's doing good for someone his age, better have small chat with him" and took him and he dropped dead just days before his wedding day. The bride who was about to get married to that man was absolutely devasted. She was so in love but unfortunately that didn't end well. She shut herself off from the world and cried every night. Lucky, for her the man left all he earned to be passed on to her if he happened to pass away before her. Then after a year of grieving the girl pulled herself out of her sadness and seclusion and bought a nice house for herself and settled there. But she never got married or made love The on one nice evening the women decided to go to the nearest pub and get some social interaction. She saw this young lad drinking booze all by himself and noticed he kinda looked sad. The lady decided to talk to that guy because she knew how miserable sadness can be. So she initiated a convo with that young lad. The lad took notice of the effort and kind heart of the lady and decided to share his life story, how he grew up in farm house and how he loved farming and all. He was rather peculiar about tractors and such farm equipments, spoke like someone describing about their love of their life. The lady noticed his love for his profession and inquired more. He went on to talk about tractors and all and how he dreamt of riding one when he was a kid and everything. He proceeded to tell how a few years ago a terrible accident made him hate the very tractors he loved as a kid. For someone who inquired more, the lady got tired of hearing about farm equipments and decided to call her day off and told the guy she's going to head back to her house. It was late night about half past 10 and so the lad offered to walk her home. The lady and the lad started to walk down the sub urbs, where the houses were distant and people occup
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Roof-ers!
They just arrrr!
He took it badly.
I hear they make a killing.
That of a notary
They rarely lose their patients.
He really pushed the envelope.
Because good things come to those who wait.
He needed some more Patients.
Marine Biologists!!
Architect. Because they'll forever be making entrances and drawing stairs.
A Cairo-practor
A Maleman...
He said it was time to switch careers. But no matter what profession he chose or what career path he took.... he just couldn't cut it.
Pointing his firearm at two cashiers, he shouts “hand over the contents of the cash register! I need it to set myself up in a trade or profession...you know, a habitual occupation followed for a livelihood and involving commercial transactions!”
Cashier 1: “What do we do?”
Cashier 2: “Do what he says, I think he means business!”
Dissatisfied with the style of life that he found there, The Monk decides to move into a suburban neighborhood and start up his own line of work. Being trained in the peaceful ways he gets on very well with his neighbours who eventually notice that he has a very strange profession. Despite being very strong and very philosophical The Monk elects to repeatedly visit places with broken fences and remove and replace them.
One day has neighbour approaches him and asks, "with the physical strength and mental capacity that you seem to have, are you not interested in a more physically or mentally challenging job?"
To which The Monk replies, "but everybody knows reposting gives you the most karma."
It's a dying profession
It’s often a tankless profession.
Her interview went well and I don't judge people based on their previous professions.
The term for farting often is to "toot", and his profession is a tutor.
So, if this man from Tooting is farting at work... you can say that a Tooter is tooting in Tooting whilst tutoring.
It's a profession I can see myself in.
The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.
The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.
Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and that’ll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.
“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.
“Please, call me Max”
“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”
“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”
" Did you know that Chiropractor is the most prevalent profession in Ukraine?"
"Hmm, I had no idea"
"Yeah, it's 'cause when you live there you crane your neck a lot"
eye roll
Bought some pizza slices and while I was filling up my drink from the soda fountain, there was a family of four talking about, of all things, medical professions. The daughter at the table said she thought a proctologist was basically a pervert since they'd be focused on butts all day every day.
The mom explained that you wouldn't call a heart surgeon who uses tools to literally crack open a person's chest cavity and muck around with things a serial killer, so why would you call a doctor who specializes in proctology a pervert?
The dad then chimed in "No that's not right... a serial killer is someone who uses Captain Crunch to murder another person!"
Silence at the table, and the daughter groaned rather loudly. I happened to make eye contact with the dad and just smirked and nodded, which made him beam, and walked out the door to hear him say "Right? Right guys?"
Well done, sir.
Man, that's such a selfish profession.
Boyfriend: What is?
Mining.
He told me it was the only job he could see himself doing.
